


Kitten

by lokidreamsinbw



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Human Trafficking, Lokitty, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Thor's real cat Harold died, and a whole lotta love, and sex, attitude loki, collars and whips, crazy crime lord jarvis, crime elements, grumpy birthday boy thor, grumpy thor, harold got him in this mess, human form jarvis makes a cameo and he's gonna stick around for a while, kitty blunt, not taking no for an answer tony, protect loki at all costs, some violence, this story has some drug references and some drug use just putting this here, thor falls in love, young pretty boys with cat ears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-14 05:36:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11776560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokidreamsinbw/pseuds/lokidreamsinbw
Summary: It's Thor's birthday! He just lost his security job at the mall and his cat died. Tony tries cheering him up and buys him a special kitty gift from The Kitty Corner, a local sex ring organization. Thor gets to keep his little sex kitten for a week, then he has to give him back or risk losing his life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Golikethat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golikethat/gifts).



> Dedicated to golikethat. Always.

"Happy birthday, you sexy beast."

Thor looks up. He's in the passenger seat and Tony just killed the engine in front of this…what the fuck is this anyways? This market kinda thing. There's music and people walking around with food and fizzy drinks and plushies and Thor takes his sunglasses off. Slowly.

There's a huge sign there, right over their heads and it's pink and green letters flashing like crazy and it says Party Land and Thor pulls a face right away.

"The fuck's this?"

Tony puts the car keys in his pocket and then he's right over Thor's left shoulder, forefinger poking the window.

Finger on the pink, "Party."

Finger on the green, "Land."

Thor throws a look over his shoulder, "thought we're not stopping by your house."

"Ha."

"Um-some personal space, maybe? Heard of it?" Thor stabs Tony in the ribs with his elbow and huffs, "please tell me there's a bar here somewhere."

Tony sighs and of course it's dramatic, "nope. Only slurpees and broken childhood dreams."

Thor groans and smacks his forehead against the glass and the force of it makes it ring and his teeth rattle.

"Hey there, watch those neurons, babe."

Thor closes his eyes.

Tony shows up at his place outta nowhere singing happy fucking birthday so out of tune it makes all the street cats howl, and says he's got a gift for him and that's what he has in mind?

Thor was actually planning on getting plastered today, thank you very much. He just got fired from his security job at the mall and, well, life sucked, so…

"Is this one of those intervention things? You show me a bunch of people smiling all over the place and that's supposed to make me feel better about my life?"

"Clearly," Tony says, "you have no idea what an intervention actually is. But, no, it isn't."

Thor looks out the window, eyebrow and lashes still stuck to the glass.

A few seconds pass and he scrunches his nose and peeks over his shoulder, "that your cologne, man?"

Tony blinks, his arms still around Thor's shoulders cause maybe he knows all about interventions but has no idea what personal space is, "uh, yeah."

"Ugh. You can slay vampires with this shit."

"Hey now. Just so you know, it's got some killer notes. Pines and some kinda fruit thingy."

"Yeah, well-" Thor wiggles around, huffing, trying to pry Tony's arms from his shoulders, "it's all up my nose now, so just-"

Thor pushes Tony off him and clears his throat, reaching for the rearview mirror.

Tony leans back in his seat and pouts, "double ouch. Not just my feelings hurt here, buddy. The cologne's too."

Thor turns the mirror his way, gets a hair-tie out of his pocket and grabs it between his teeth. He starts slicking his hair back, smoothing over all those crazy loose hairs and he goes from an eight to a perfect ten in a few seconds just like that. 

He puts his hair in a ponytail and thinks this over. It's not like he's not showering or something, it's a different kind of depression. You shower but you do it hoping you'll accidently drown cause your life is so horrible there's just no fixing it, you know, so what's the point? 

August just rolled in so he's got this white sleeveless shirt on and with his tan, blue eyes and blonde hair he looks like a god but feels like a loser. He's had this job for the last three years-yeah it was a no brainer kinda thing but he got used to it and it felt comforting in a way. He had a place to go to in the morning, a place to return from at night and it paid the bills and it was kinda okay; and now it's not knowing and job hunting and it brings on one of those annoying headaches just thinking about it.

Thor huffs and looks at Tony, brows all low, not one dimple in sight because the last thing he feel like doing right now is smile. 

"You realize I hate you for this, right?" he says and yep, Tony doesn't look impressed at all, "that free pass you had to my fridge? All gone."

"Yeah, yeah. C'mon grumpy pants," Tony slaps Thor's shoulder, "let's go and get something for the birthday boy."

"Woo-hoo."

"Someone's snappy."

"I'd take a bed and some Jack Daniels right now over this, thank you."

He tugs on that 'you' until it sounds like a little melody and Tony gives him a look and winks and what the fuck why.

"Maybe later," he says to Thor and what does this even mean?

Thor opens the door and one leg's out, "you hate Jack."

"Well, someone else might like it."

"Huh?"

Tony just hums in response and then he's out, sunlight painting bright golden stripes all over his soft leather jacket. 

"You know, I hate it when you do that."

Tony's locking the car, "do what?"

"The hum thing."

"Oh gosh, no. I'm devastated. Why?"

"Cause I always get this feeling that you're keeping shit from me. You know, singin' and winnin'."

"Never heard of that expression."

"Birthday boy over here just came up with it," Thor says and squints big time because the sun is killing him.

Tony walks around the car and clips Thor's shoulder, "impressive."

Then he does a little bow and points to the gates and Thor feels like rolling his eyes, cause the gates are purple and this is going to be such an awesome day.

Thor puts his sunglasses back on because hangover+sun=death and in they go.

It looks much bigger on the inside and there's probably a roof up there somewhere but Thor can't see it because you look up and it's like you're looking straight into heaven, all that bright light and no detail to anything, all fuzzy.

The place is packed with people selling and buying stuff and it's filled with that kinda noise, that constant hum you can either ignore or let it drive you insane; it's talking and money exchanging hands and huge balloons getting pumped full of helium, and whistles and some twisted elevator music ,and the pops and clinks that tiny trinkets make, and Thor can't help but wonder why the human brain doesn't have this option to turn the fucking volume off when necessary. 

Thor scratches an itch on his shoulder and looks at Tony. Tony's got his sunglasses on his hair (electric blue lenses), and he's rocking a white leather jacket and has this pleased look on his face, like it's just the best day ever and Thor gets the feeling he's up to something but he can't really focus on it because all those lights and colors everywhere make his attention scatter all over the place.

He hangs his own sunglasses on the front of his shirt and steps over a kid playing on the floor with a toy truck full of people. 

There are stalls all over the place, full of stuff no one really needs and he could have been sleeping right now, this is so not fair.

Tony's a short guy, so when he keeps craning his neck to see better, looking all the way to the area there at the back that's still kinda far from where they are at the moment, Thor frowns.

"Looking for something?"

Tony turns his entire body towards Thor and his eyes go all the way up to the ceiling, mouth twisting sideways, "uh-maybe." 

Then he goes on walking and Thor catches up.

"You know," Thor says, tries to catch his breath, "you know you don't need to get me anything, right? I never get any stuff, I don't celebrate. I hate birthdays. It's like, there's things you hate and there's birthdays and these are the worst because if you're really lucky and someone actually gets you something, it's usually something crappy you'll never use, like a stupid shower curtain, and it just makes you feel old and fat cause CAKE. So…"

Tony stops abruptly and squints at him, "wait a minute. WAIT A MINUTE. Is it the whole cat thing? That's it, isn't it? That's what's making you all Mr. Grumpy?"

Yeah, it IS the cat thing, thank you very much.

Thor pouts, "I loved Harold."

"Oh, c'mon. The thing was what, like a thousand years old?"

"Fourteen, actually."

"It was growing a fucking beard. Like right here in the chin area. One of those Santa Claus ones. He was ready to kick the bucket, man."

Thor crosses his arms over his chest all tight and looks like a big kid that just lost his pet lizard in some tall grass. Yeah, Harold was old, and yeah, Thor figured he might not live for much longer, but he was fine when Thor went to bed on Friday, snoring in his little kitty bed in the kitchen right next to his favorite thing in the world (the fridge), and Thor kissed him on the head, right between those fuzzy pink ears of his, and in the morning Harold was as stiff as a board, tongue hanging out, favorite rainbow mouse lying belly-up on the floor.

He got Harold for his twentieth birthday from one of his exes and now he doesn't have a job and his cat is dead and he's wasting his drinking time in this stupid place and Tony is holding a toy headstone that's playing the funeral marsh and his life sucks so bad he wants to scream, or cry. Maybe both.

Tony puts the toy back and when the guy behind the counter gets curious Tony whispers out of the side of his mouth, "his cat just died."

"Oh."

Tony nudges Thor's side with his knuckles and they keep walking, Thor's body language screaming 'just leave me alone' and Tony's being all energetic, and…weird? He looks like a kid that's about to blow something up in the backyard and Thor wonders about this for a bit but he's too busy imagining Harold there in his tiny cat bed, hugging his tiny mouse.

"There are other cats, you know," Tony says and when Thor looks at him he's got a blunt in his mouth, the rolling paper loaded with this colorful cats print and he's trying to light it.

Thor looks over his shoulder because sometimes things just blow his mind, "where'd you get that?"

"My pocket," Tony mumbles and there's the sharp click and the flame jumps out and licks the end part, setting a kitten with a pink bow on its head on fire.

Thor raises an eyebrow.

Tony blows out a cloud of smoke and his eyes roll back, lids fluttering, grinning like the Mad Hatter, "ok, ok. No pocket. Not mine."

"Mm-hmm ." 

Then Thor blinks cause the smoke smells so fucking sweet, "is that-"

Blunt exchanges hands and Thor puffs on it for a bit and the smoke is so thick it's like he's got a train in his mouth,and the sweetness of it sticks to his teeth like candy, and it tastes like sugar and strawberrys and cotton candy and a bit like grapes too and it goes straight to his head and for a few precious seconds it's all colors bleeding into one another around him and horizons in his head and it feels good, it feels normal; no dead cats anywhere, just a soft buzz and that delightful warmth pooling in his fingertips.

Thor blinks at Tony once and it's slow and heavy and Tony grins so wide it almost knocks his head right off his shoulders.

"Likey?"

"Not bad."

Cause that's the way Thor is, hates to admit he actually likes something a lot.

He puffs on it again and it feels like the smoke is climbing up and settling right between his eyes, turning the inside of his skull bright pink.

Thor opens his eyes and he has no idea as to when he actually closed them and he says to Tony, "hey, you know, if that's my birthday present, I'll take it."

"We're not there yet, birthday boy."

Thor blows some smoke out of his nostrils and a kid spots him and points and goes, "hey cool, a dragon!"

"Dragons guard treasure, kid," Thor says after him and Tony snatches the blunt from Thor's mouth, "this dragon right here is broke."

"Hey," Tony inhales all that magic smoke in, "you know what they say: you fill your heart with love, not money."

"Yeah, say the rich people."

They keep weaving through stalls and Thor blinks when the light changes. There's less light where they're headed and no kids at all. The stalls stand farther and farther apart and-is that a gun on one of the tables? Thor turns to look but Tony makes sure he keeps walking.

Thor rubs his forehead because that stuff he just smoked must be messing with his brain.

There's a vending machine to their left and to their right there's this long row of cages, and there are people inside them and Tony sticks two fingers in his mouth and whistles to get the vendor's attention; he's a huge tall blonde guy wearing a purple trench coat in August and there's a huge sign hanging above the cages; it's pink and it has kitty paw prints all over it and it says 'The Kitty Corner'. But there are no cats around, just young boys about nineteen in those cages, a boy in each cage, all wearing cat ears and collars.

And Thor pushes the heels of his palms in his eyes and rubs furiously and when he takes another look at those cages the boys are still there.

Thor counts ten cages; they're just decorative, not the ones you actually use to keep animals in-they're pink and blue and green and gold and the bars looks like pearl necklaces or rose stems and there are pillows and soft carpets at the bottom for the boys to sit or lay on and all the locks on the doors are glittery and heart-shaped.

"Hey, look," Tony says, acting all surprised, "looks like we've reached the-"

"Kitty Corner," the vendor interrupts, sounding all grumpy and Thor looks from this tall dude to the cages, and is he missing something here?

Thor points with his thumb, "these are not cats."

Tony looks at him like 'well, news flash' and says, "well, playboy bunnies aren't real bunnies either."

"Is this even legal?"

Tony raises his brows at Mr. Purple Trench Coat.

"Yeah," Coat says and Thor just looks at him like 'you're shitting me'.

But Thor finds himself getting closer to the cages and young, beautiful faces come to press against the bars, soft radiant cheeks waiting for the touch of his hand, rubbing against the bars with their eyes searching, lashes fluttering. 

One's a redhead, wearing a pair of white lace leggings, gripping the neon-blue bars of his cage with both hands, kneeling on a golden carpet, mouth painted bright red, juicy and wet.

Another one has shocking blonde hair reaching his chin. He's wearing a shiny flower-patterned silk robe (soft blue, purple and silver) and when he sees Thor he lays on his back (Persian carpet tickling the back of his neck) and extends one arm through the bars of the cage, offering his fingers for Thor to take, head tilted back, looking at Thor through thick, heavy lashes, nibbling on a short fingernail. 

"Hey," there's Tony's voice flowing close to his left ear, "Harold, god rest his furry soul, is gone. I think it's time for another cat to take his place."

Thor turns to look at him and tries to ignore the feeling of long fingers tugging on his ankle from one of the cages, "I think you and I see cats differently, man. The way I see 'em, they're tiny and hairy and they meow."

"You want a fat, hairy one?" Tony looks at Coat, "we can arrange that, right?"

"No, I want one that meows."

Tony shrugs, "these guys can meow."

Coat snaps his fingers.

The boys raise their heads and the air is filled with soft meows.

Shit, this is getting frustrating.

Thor covers his face with his palms and groans, "fuck, I didn't mean-"

Coat blinks. Only nine meows. One is missing.

Coat rattles the cage at the end of the row there with the tip of his boot.

And there it is. It's a meow. But it's a fuck off meow and Thor peeks at the cage. The boy in there is sitting cross-legged on a glittery green carpet, wearing a pair of black leather pants and ankle boots with pretty gold motifs. He has no shirt on, and like all the other boys he is wearing a collar. He's got glossy black hair and a frown going on, and Thor watches him for a while, chewing his gum all out of rhythm. 

"What are these?" Thor mumbles and Coat rolls his eyes.

"Cats, you idiot."

Tony steps right in, "they keep you…company."

"Well, I don't want company," Thor says and this is too much for him to handle cause those are people in there and they're locked up, and he turns to leave but Tony gets in his way.

Tony still has the kitty blunt there between his finger and thumb and the smoke smells so sweet it makes Thor's stomach turn and makes his head get all fuzzy again.

"You know what," Tony says and looks like he's just realizing he has made a mistake, "you're right. You're right."

"Fuck yeah, I'm right," Thor waves his hand towards the cages, "this thing right here? It's not okay, alright? They're people and they're locked up and since when can you just walk into a marketplace or whatever and just buy a person?"

Tony squints and gives a little shrug, "it's just for a week though."

And Thor's sure he heard it all wrong, "what?"

"Uh, right. We should go," Tony says without missing a beat, "just-"

Thor raises his brows cause what now.

Tony looks over Thor's shoulder at the vending machine and reaches for his wallet, "can you get me a coke?"

Thor looks over his own shoulder and there's the vending machine stuffed full of colorful cans and bottles and it's right there next to the bathroom and it's not that far away; Thor can hear it humming softly and it feels like if he'll get too close to it he'll be able to feels the rhythmic vibrations climbing up his spine through the soles of his shoes.

"Should be a snack one too around here," Thor complains and rubs his stomach, "all this fucking weed made me hungry."

And when Tony wants to give him some money Thor says: "I've got it" and heads over to the giant buzzing beast, searching his back pockets for change with one hand, using the other to rub his forehead because that blunt messed with his head and made it feel all stuffy.

Thor slips the coins in one by one because he wants to get something to drink too but he's not sure what, so he's just buying time, humming this stupid tune under his breath cause it's all the TV's fault, it gets stupid shit stuck in your head.

He presses his forehead to the glass and uses more force than necessary to press the 2 button with one rough knuckle. 

And he blinks and watches the never ending row of coke cans and it's always a guessing game of which can will drop first. He places his bet on the second one on the right and waits, clicking his tongue. 

And nope, it's the first one on the left there, and there's the spiral thing spinning like a vortex and the can starts moving forwards. Feels like it'll never drop but then comes the thud and Thor sticks his hand through the opening and the can is freezing cold.

He drums on the can for a bit and picks Dr. Pepper for himself cause yummy.

Spiral thingy moving. Some buzzing. A muffled thud and Thor's got both cans in his hands, and it's only after taking a few steps towards The Kitty Corner that he realizes Tony is gone.

The boy with the black hair and ankle boots stands there in his spot with Coat right next to him counting bills and the money looks so green in all that black leather of Coat's gloves.

Thor looks from the money to the boy and nononono Tony didn't just fuck everything up and pay for this kid, right?

But he gets the feeling that yep, that's exactly what Tony did cause it's Thor's birthday today and it's Tony's idea of a gift or something, and that's why he split cause he knew Thor would get angry.

"One week."

"Huh?"

Coat points to the boy, "you get him for one week. Then you give him back. He's not here by Friday, we send someone to get him."

Then he looks Thor right in the eye, "you don't want us doing that."

Thor licks his lips and quick, you solve this right now because all this right here, it's not happening, you're not taking this boy home.

"You don't need to wait 'till Friday," Thor says and the condense sticks to his fingers and palms, "you keep him. You keep the money too, okay? You just keep it all, alright? It's just my friend behind all this and he's a fucking-he's not right in the head and he's doing stupid things without asking me first and hey, that's one of them, right? He just thinks he's being funny. So, just-"

He takes a breath and looks at the boy for a second, standing there with his cat ears headband on and his 'I hate this world' expression on his face, and then Thor looks back at Coat,"pretend like this never happened." 

"Only it did. I've got your signature."

"My wha-"

Thor gets a page shoved under his nose and it's this contract or something stating that he has paid for this and that he has to bring the 'goods' back on the 23rd of August and that fucker Tony forged his signature and Thor's gonna kill him the second he sees him.

Thor looks at Coat, moving his fingers over the scratches Tony's pen left on the page, "hey, look. I didn't sign this, so-"

Flash!

Coat just snapped a pic of Thor on his phone.

"Why'd you do that?"

"Confirmation."

Now this whole thing is really starting to piss him off, "confirmation my ass! I just told you, it's not my fucking signature-"

Coat slips the phone in one of his many pockets and looks all cool as he says: "you refuse to abide to this contract, you pay five hundred."

Thor almost chokes on his gum," five hundred dollars?"

"Five hundred thousand."

Thor blanches, "I don't have that kinda money. I just lost my job-"

And my cat. And suddenly he really hates Harold because he just had to die and get him involved in this mess. Cause that's what cats do. Little life ruiners.

"Our guys. They will make you pay," Coat says, and the way he says it makes the hairs on Thor's arms stand on end.

His mouth is all dry, "listen here, buddy. You threaten me, I'm calling the cops."

And isn't that what he's supposed to do anyways? Call the cops, make sure these boys go back to their families and their lives? But he doesn't want to get into trouble and-

"The city's chief of police is one of our best clients," Coat says and points to the blonde in the robe, "Everett here is his favorite."

Then he turns his back on Thor, still counting, and it's the end of the conversation. 

Thor's holding the cans close to his chest and parts of his shirt already feel cold and wet. And he's looking around cause Tony gotta still be there somewhere and fuck, he can try his phone.

He dials Tony's number.

It goes straight to voicemail. 

"Son of a-"

"You're supposed to read this."

It's the boy's voice and although it's a bit hoarse, it's pleasant.

Thor shifts his weight in his shoes, "read what?"

"This," the boy says and touches this pink booklet thingy attached by a thin chain to his collar.

"What's that?"

"It's got stuff about me in it," the boy says and when he releases his grip on the booklet it swirls in the air from right to left, left to right, catching the light.

Thor gets closer to him and the boy smells like vanilla. The scent is coming from his hair, behind his ears, and it reminds Thor of the way that smoke smelled and he's gentle when he stops the swinging motion of the little pink booklet and flips it open.

It's just two pages in there, made of cardboard, and they do have some writing on them.

 

Meow!

My name is Loki.

I love to play. I love to cuddle. I love sitting on your lap.

Ask me about the pink.

 

Thor blinks and looks at Loki, still holding onto the booklet, "what's the pink?"

"The pink booklet," Loki says and when he looks at the boys in their cages Thor finds himself looking as well, "some of us got black ones. You get a black one, it means you only get to play nice."

"And if I get a pink one?"

Loki looks at him and his lips are a little bit parted, "pink means you get to fuck me."


	2. Chapter 2

(Just a little author's note here: seeing Jarvis' human form like this (it IS Paul Bettany :p in Inkheart) <https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b4/4c/d9/b44cd9dcdd528316decb110add060605.jpg>  

 

 

"I'm sorry, I get to _what_?"

That's Thor, still not that sure that he's not still in bed, drunk out of his ass, dreaming all this shit up, because none of this makes sense. The only thing that does make sense is this thought running through his head at full speed over and over again: _killtonykilltonykillto-_

"Fuck me," Loki says, louder this time, like he's not that sure Thor's hearing is 100% alright, and Thor just puts his hand up and shakes his head.

"No, yeah-I heard you the first time. Just uh-there's not gonna be any fuck-" shit he's stuttering, "fucking involved. Yep, no fucking at all."

"Yeah, like I've never heard that before," Loki looks Thor over, chin sticking out , sweet cat ears pointing back at an angle, "I hear that, then I get your dick shoved inside me so fast I don't even get a chance to see what color your sheets are."

And a second later he adds about the sheets, "not that I even care."

Thor puffs his cheeks out, "the color of misery."

"Yeah, I don't care."

Thor closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, "I can't believe this is happening."

"You say it like it's such a bad thing," Loki says and reaches behind his cage for a black denim backpack, "you didn't have to pay for anything and you get to do whatever you want with me for a week. You're not the one that has to take it from a guy that just lost his job and has some weird unsolved dead-cat issues."

_That little…!_

Thor takes a step forward, "hey, you know what-"

"Oooh, are you angry now?" Loki looks unimpressed and slings the bag over his shoulder, "did I strike a nerve?"

Thor ends up giving him a death glare because all he keeps wanting to say is at least I had a normal job and didn't have to whore myself around; but saying it feels wrong for some reason, and the fact he can't say it makes him angry cause this guy just makes him feel like such an idiot and it's the last thing he needs right now.

"Just…shut up," Thor says and he needs a bloody moment here, so he starts walking the other way, tossing those stupid cans the second he realizes he's still holding onto them for some reason.

"Fuck," he breathes and runs both huge palms over his hair, wanting to kick the shit out of everything that stands in his way.

And then there it is, this little annoying sound a tiny bell makes when it moves around and it's coming closer. Two seconds later and there's that vanilla scent invading his nostrils like a foreign army, and Loki is walking to his right, that used looking bag on his shoulder, the heels of his boots clicking all over the place.

Loki's got the Cola can in his hand and although Thor can't spot his Dr. Pepper anywhere, he's sure Loki put it in his bag.

Loki takes a step and the bell goes all annoying ding-ding.

Another step. _Ding-fucking-ding._

It's the tiny pink bell on Loki's collar that's making all this noise and Thor huffs all dramatic.

"Can't you shut this stupid thing up?"

Loki smirks at him, then shakes his head.

Hard.

The bell of course sings a fucking serenade.

"Should have known."

Loki shrugs and taps the top of the can with his fingers, trying to keep it from spraying all over the place once he opens it, cause Thor had to be a dick and toss it like that.

Thor catches a glimpse of Loki's backpack. One zipper is clearly missing and the remaining zipper has this silvery key chain attached to it-a cat arching its back-and there are some fabric stickers on the front, spelling _Loki_ in faded red letters.

Thor sticks one hand in his pocket and looks over his shoulder. They've been walking for a bit and from the spot they're at The Kitty Corner isn't even visible anymore.

"That creepy guy in the coat can't even see us from over there," he says and looks at Loki who's trying to slip a short fingernail beneath the ring tab of the can so he can crack it open.

  
"So?" Loki mumbles without looking up, and adjusts the bag on his shoulder.

Thor looks at him like the kid lost his mind, "what do you mean _'so'_? He can't see you. You can just walk outta here and never look back."

A tiny cracking sound. A hiss. Then a pop, and Thor can hear the bubbles exploding like firecrackers and he didn't even have enough time to flinch, thinking that Loki was going to get Cola all over the place, because Loki just cracked it open and his little tapping trick worked like magic.

Loki looks like he hadn't heard Thor at all, tilts his head back and Thor watches his throat work, the sound of the soda hissing all crisp and sharp, loud in his ears.

"Did you hear what I've just said?"

Loki just keeps drinking and after half the can is gone, stops to breathe and wipes his mouth on the inner part of his wrist.

"The running away part," Loki says, "I can't do that."

What's this kid on about?

"Why not?"

Loki takes another long swig, and then touches his collar, "tracker."

Thor looks at the collar and it just looks like a regular choker you can get for a few bucks, and he's not buying it.

"You're shitting me."

"I shit you not," Loki says like he's reciting a line from a Shakespearean play and it makes Thor wonder: has this kid ever been to school?

"A tracker in that thing? No way."

Loki drinks some more, and the way he's drinking it looks like he's really thirsty and a thought enters Thor's foggy brain: how long has it been since that creep gave these boys something to drink?

A guy that's keeping boys in cages and makes money off them, is quite capable of putting a tracker on them to make sure they don't get away from him, right?

"Why not just take the collar off?" Thor asks, and he's getting way more involved in this than he should.

Loki leaves the now empty can on one of the stands when the vendor isn't looking, "it's metal inside the collar. There's this locking mechanism and it doesn't open unless you've got the key."

  
Alright, enough of this.

Thor stops Loki mid-step with a hand on the side of his chest and Loki looks at the strong palm resting there near his heart before looking at Thor.

Thor slips his fingers under the collar and feels it, expecting it to just feel like leather, but it doesn't. The leather is sawn over a heavy metal band. Loki wasn't lying.

A look passes between them. There's no snark there, no pretend, just this sense of understanding and like it or not we're in this together now, then Loki turns his face away and the bell jingles sweetly.

Thor lets go of the collar and looks in the direction of The Kitty Corner, "that's fucking twisted."

Loki just shrugs, "tell me about it."

They keep walking and when they get close to the exit, Loki pulls a t-shirt out of his bag and puts it on. It's grey and has all these slashes all over it and it has a black heart on the front there, and there's the word _broken_ written below in meek pink.

Thor runs his gaze over it because it says heart-broken, and it's such a bold statement, presented in such a childish way with the heart print and all; and Thor thinks that nowadays you can't find things that feel true to life in books, but you can find them on things teens wear, and why is that they don't make stuff like that for adults too, it's not just these young lost souls that need guidance.

What would Thor want printed on his shirt? _pathetic blonde_ comes to mind. Yep, sounds good enough.

Loki's tugging on the bag's zipper cause it's stuck, and Thor looks inside and spots something that looks like-

"Is that a _whip_?" he asks and his voice comes out sounds all funny, crazy high-pitched at the end there.

Thor watches Loki's expression change. It goes from neutral to tight lips, zero blinks. And Loki tugs this one time really hard, and the zipper lets out this epic grey scream and hops all the way to the middle and the bag is almost closed.

And as Loki works on zipping the bag up, the whip sways lightly in all that semi darkness inside it, and Thor spots comfortable looking dents there on the handle, so when you grip it, it feels nice; and this stripe of light slides down the length of the leather strap that's as wide as two of Thor's fingers.

Thor looks at Loki and his eyes look easy and amused.

"Do you-" he flicks his wrist, a whipping motion, and makes this whistling sound to match.

There the zipper goes again, the bag closes, and Loki's expression changes right away, just like that. The attitude is back and it feels like a different person.

"Oh yeah," Loki says and Thor goes into a wicked blinking attack cause did Loki just wink at him?

Thor whistles, "wow."

"You like it?"

Thor looks him over, "it fits you. You lash out with this thing, same way you do with your tongue."

Loki smirks and looks so pleased with himself, "you saying I've got sass?"

"I'm saying you're a smartass."

Loki shrugs in a _what can you do_ way, and they keep walking.

Thor is very aware of that little jingle, the sound of Loki's backpack brushing against those thin shoulder blades with each step, and all that intoxicating vanilla. Thor will never look at vanilla ice cream the same way again.

The street's getting closer, this gloomy river of grey, and Thor thinks that they'll need to get a cab, and tries to actually wrap his mind around the fact that he's gonna take this boy to his house and let him stay there for seven fucking days, with those cat ears and that whip-

Thor pinches the bridge of his nose cause he just got this image in his head of Loki, kneeling on the bed (Thor's bed!!), running his small pink tongue along the leather strap of that whip, looking straight into Thor's eyes and where the fuck did that just come from?

"Is your car around here somewhere?"

Thor whips his head back so fast he almost breaks his neck cause that image just messed with his mind really bad for a second there, and hello Thor, you're walking down the street with a kid wearing cat ears and a collar and he's real, this whole thing is real. Snap outta your stupid weedy trance.

"Uh…no. We took Tony's car."

"But you do have a car, right?" Loki looks at him like he's the biggest idiot in the world, "like, not _here_ , but somewhere on the planet?"

"Yeah, I do. Why? You checking to see how high I score on the loser meter?"

"I say…98 out of a hundred? Having a car gets you like, two points."

Is there a reason Thor's still listening to this?

"Should get me more."

"Yeah. But you've just lost your job. At the _mall_. Who loses their job at the mall?"

Thor runs a hand down his face and scans the street for a taxi. Even this kid gets what a big loser he is. Unbelievable.

"Is this a cat thing?"

"Is what a cat thing?"

"This bitchiness."

"Oh, that," Loki says and adjusts his headband, "nope. It's just a Loki thing."

Thor grunts and gives his eyes a rub before signaling to a cab, "happy fucking birthday to me, I guess."

Loki just smirks.

It's a Loki thing, too.

A cab pulls over and Loki gets in the back seat, backpack on his knees and Thor squeezes in there too, and he has no idea why, cause he always sits up front.

Thor's address goes from mouth to ear and the driver is being an asshole to Loki.

"Hey there, kitty. Going to a costume party or something?"

And Loki just says simply, "life's a costume party. What you see is never what you get."

The driver doesn't have patience for kids getting all philosophical on him, so he just shuts up. It could also have something to do with Thor staring him down in the rearview mirror.

Thor's huge, so their shoulders are just about touching, and in this tiny closed space Loki's all vanilla and warmth radiating off his skin, and Thor lets out a breath and undoes his ponytail.

It's a nervous habit of his to mess with his hair when he feels like something's nibbling on his brain, and Loki moves his head to the side-"whoa, there"-so he won't get elbowed right in the face.

He watches Thor running those long, strong fingers through all that thick blonde hair and says: "I like it down like that."

Thor looks at him like no way you just said something nice about me.

"Yep," Loki adds, straight face and all, "makes you look like a drug lord. Retired, though. Cause you lost all your stash."

Thor lets out this hum with his lips pressed together, cause seriously, what was he expecting to hear? But Loki's eyes linger on him for a while.

"Well, don't just sit there like that," Loki says, eyes full of _c'mon let's have a verbal cat fight_ , "say something back."

Thor just shakes his head cause this kid is getting him all exhausted. And he's not just a loser anymore, he's a friggin' _old_ loser because he can't keep up with this guy.

Hair in a ponytail. Streets looking like running film strips outside the windows. And it looks like Loki's given up.

He's bringing that zipper down again, and Thor's watching him from the corner of his eye, pretending not to be looking at all.

Loki rummages through it for a bit and then takes out an inhaler. Thor turns his head to look at him without even realizing it.

It's a clear inhaler, you can see all the bits in it, rough plastic, and Loki shakes it and the sound is all over the place.

Thor's uncle had asthma so Thor knows what it's all about. But Loki's breathing seems fine and it's not an attack, it's just to keep one from happening.

Loki puts the mouthpiece in his mouth and pushes down on the canister. Medicine comes out in a whoosh and he breathes it in deep. Just one puff and then the inhaler goes right back in the bag.

"You get the attacks often?" Thor finds himself asking.

"Haven't had one in two months," Loki says, then looks out the window, adding all bored, "are we there yet?"

 

***

 

Jarvis sits there with a drink in his hand and a dark haired boy kneeling between his legs.

One of his many giant bedrooms in one of his many giant houses and it's only 2 PM but the curtains are drawn.

Black silk pants and a red textured silk robe, wavy whisky-colored hair tucked behind his ears and a pair of gentle boy hands feeling all warm on his thighs.

There's a thin layer of Peruvian Lady under his nails, and the sting of it up his nostrils, and it feels like having a strip of Velcro leading straight to your fucking hemispheres. His heart races like a techno beat as he's sitting there in his chair, toes pressed to the floor, heels in the air. And the boy's got some Peruvian in his hair cause he's one of those kids that mess with it all the time, young and so fucking vain.

The tip of the boy's nose is pressed against the center of Jarvis' naked chest and it's his scorching breath there on his skin, lips kissing their way down, tugging on his flesh with tiny, perfectly-white boy teeth.

Jarvis sips on his Jack and watches the boy's head inching its way down, thin shoulders bare, hair in his face. Jarvis swishes the Jack around in his mouth and pushes all that hair back slow; strands of it get caught between his bony fingers and it's like lifting the sheet off some corpse in the morgue, you get to see who it is there underneath it.

Jarvis knows it's not Loki there on his knees about to suck him off, but he still needs to look cause he needs to feel that sting in his heart. Everyone knows Jarvis is a sadi but very few people know he's a maso as well, and he can't just sit there and pretend it's Loki's little glorious mouth doing all that work, because it'd be too fucking easy.

Round pretty brown eyes look up at him and Jarvis smoothes all that black hair back with one huge palm. The boy's got the waistband of Jarvis' pants between his teeth and there's a trail of blood coming out of his left nostril, making its way down his cupid's bow. Jarvis licks his thumb and wipes the blood off. The boy lets go of the waistband and takes Jarvis' thumb in his mouth and sucks on it.

Beautiful street kid, willing to do anything for a chance to let his heart dance with the glorious Peruvian Lady.

All that suction feels wonderful and Jarvis slides his thumb in deeper, until it's all in there, and runs his blunt nails down the side of the boy's face.

Jarvis got some of his guys downstairs, his kitty catchers, blasting some club music, stuffing Snow up their noses. Others are all over town catcalling beautiful boys for Jarvis to fuck and make money off later.

In fact, he's got a kitty dealer at Party Land right now- "Coat" Colton, with his stupid purple coat and badly dyed blonde hair.

Coat's got Loki there. Loki always brings good money in cause he's a smartass and he doesn't break easily. Jarvis shattered him to pieces a while ago and once you've been shattered like that, it's hard to shatter you again.

Jarvis pulls his thumb out of the boy's mouth and tugs on the corner of the boy's lips, making him smile all crooked.

"Now that's a pretty kitty," he coos and his voice is all hoarse and the boy ducks his head and presses his lips to the front of Jarvis' pants, mouth hot on all that cool silk. Jarvis reclines in the chair and tilts his head back, laughing at the ceiling, eyes glazed over, pupils blown out.

A bloody knock on the door.

Jarvis hooks one long leg over the boy's shoulder and his voice sounds dusty, "someone's telling it to the judge over here, can't this wait?"

And there's Heckler in the doorway, taking his aviators off.

Heckler's only 5'10 but he's got enough muscle to stick a blade right through your skull if you happen not to pay up and that's all that matters. He's got the Glasgow Smile going on at the left side of his face, it's a Scottish thing but he got it right here in LA, and each time you look at it, it still looks fresh.

Jarvis drapes his leg across the boy's shoulders and raises his barely-there brows at Heckler, "what is it?"

"Ten thousand," Heckler says and the wild club beat sticks to his leather jacket.

"For?"

Heckler's careful here, "Loki."

Jarvis drains the glass.

The side of the boy's face is pressed to his groin, and the silk is so thin he can feel the boy's long lashes fluttering. And there's this image-no, this fucking sweet memory, of Loki kneeling between his legs just like that, tugging on the zipper of Jarvis' pants, Jarvis' black leather belt wrapped tight around Loki's thin neck, crazy silver buckle glinting in the lights.

Jarvis brings his leg down, presses his palm to the side of the boy's face and shoves him away. The boy looks down, sniffles, and shuffles to the side, hugs Jarvis' left leg.

"Who's the motherfucker?" Jarvis asks, pressing his knee against the boy's sharp cheekbone.

Heckler steps in, takes the signed contract out of the inner pocket of his jacket and hands it over.

"Thor Odinson," he says in a soft Scottish accent, voice throaty and pleasant.

Good-bitch Coat printed out Thor's photo on a separate page, and there he is in all his glory, buff and blonde, and Jarvis stares at Thor's eyes for a while.

"This son of a bitch is gonna try and be a hero," he concludes.

That's a good soul right there, and Jarvis folds the page in half so only Thor's photo is visible.

"There's always a hero," he mutters and pushes his thumb through the paper, and there go this blonde fucker's good-guy eyes, and half his fucking face too.

"Keep an eye on this bitch," Jarvis says, takes out a lighter and sets the paper on fire.

He watches it burn until there's nothing left of it.


End file.
